Bound
by santsi
Summary: 'There are two paths you can go by, but in the long run, there's still time to change the road you're on.' There are consequences for our actions. One night changes Hyde's life forever. Follow his mad descent into his own personal hell, and his fight for the one thing that can change everything- sobriety. (Heavy Content. Drug Use.)
1. Prologue

__(A/N) I know. I shouldn't be doing this. But I've had this in my notebook for ages. Might as well go ahead and start on this multi-chapter.

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><p><em>Two<em>…_ Three… Four…_

Round seven of trying to count the endless field of green and pinks dashes on the floor did nothing to quell the unease in his gut. Hyde's gaze sifted over the stark, white tile and harsh lighting in the tiny waiting room. Blue eyes drifted up the wall to the ceiling where gashes squirmed like tiny bugs overheads. It was unsettling to say the least. Bringing his hands to his face he let out a long sigh before allowing his body to rest uncomfortably on three black chairs. One week, it had been one week since he had seen Eric, two days since he had seen Donna, far too long since he had seen Jackie ( He lost count after the cold set in. ), and even longer since he had seen himself.

'So this is it.' He thought with a grimace. Years of indifference and stone faced denial had finally caught up with him. Calloused fingers grazed the rim of his coat pocket. Nervous habit, he guessed catching the movement.

It really shouldn't have surprised him that he was here now. He knew it, deep down, this is where he would wind up. He practically asked for it. Accepted his path in life before he even started down it. Even going so far as to be proud of it. At least he pretended to be. If he had nothing else in life at least he had 'cool'. Not to be confused with 'Zen'.

"Steven Hyde."

He turned his head to the sound of a petite voice. A young woman wearing blue scrubs stood in the doorway. He took a moment to adjust his sunglasses before sitting up. Black clouded his vision for a moment before returning to normal, followed by a pounding ache rocking the front of his skull. His stomach turned as the nurse smiled politely at him, "My name is Linda. Do you need some help, honey?"

"It's cool." He answered gruffly steadying himself on the chair and trying to ignore the cramping in his legs.

"Honey, you know you can't wear those in here." Linda stated helping him to the next room.

"What?"

"Those sunglasses, sweetie. They're not allowed. We gotta be able to see your eyes."

Not feeling the argument that was to come at that moment he grudgingly removed his glasses and -

Uh oh.

First they take his sunglasses, now he's vomited on the first staff member he's seen. This was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter I

**(AN): **Here's Chapter One. So, Hyde is in rehab.** This fic will have heavy mature content. This deals with heavy drinking and drug use. A profuse amount of swearing and some sexual content. Heavy stuff. Anyone under eighteen has been advised. You've been warned. **This will follow Hyde's Rehab experience on a day by day basis. As well as flashbacks at the beginning of each chapter. Enjoy and review! I don't own T7S'

'Been Dazed and Confused for so long it's not true

Wanted a woman, never bargained for you

Lots of people talk and few of them know,

Soul of a woman was created below.'

- Dazed and Confused, Led Zeppelin

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><p><em>"Hyde… Hyde… Oh my God…"<em>

_"Hyde… Wake up! Shit. Hyde!"_

_Hyde's eyes shot open and a white hot pain tore through his skull._

_"Wake up, please! Fucking wake up! What the fuck, Oh my God!"_

_He shut his eyes again. The memory of red, green and blue lights, blonde hair, yelling, a terrible band all flooded back to him. Blonde hair? There was a girl…_

_Krystal._

_He opened his eyes and turned to see a blonde girl with blood gushing from her skull and gashes on her face. The look in her eyes horrified him. "Can you hear me, Hyde? Oh my Fucking shit! This can't be happening!"_

_"Where… What happened?" His own voice shocked him- hoarse . When he drew his hand from his face he saw thick red on his fingertips. As he spoke the terror etched in Krystal's face disappeared._

_"You're awake! Oh thank God! Now you can tell me what the hell it is we're going to do!" Tears mixed with blood and rage rolled down her cheeks._

_How long had he been out? Nothing was making sense. When did he meet this girl?_

_"Hyde! Shit! We're fucked! You just don't understand! We are fucked! You asshole!" Krystal sobbed as she threw her fists into her shoulder. Pain shot through his back._

_This was too much._

_He turned to his left and blindly reached for the handle, swinging the door open._

_"Where are you going? Huh? You can't just leave me here!"_

_"Shut the fuck up, Krystal!" He shouted taking a fistful of his curls and scanning his surroundings. The street was dimly lit and covered in shattered glass. Scraps of twisted metal lay a few feet away._

_Oh shit._

_No._

_Turning to face Krystal who was still shouting at him from the passenger's seat he felt the tears come on._

_"Look at what you did Hyde!" She screamed through desperate sobs. "Look at what you fucking did! We're fucked!"_

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><p>Chapter I<p>

A wave of sickness came over him as he, once again, expelled the contents of his stomach on the floor. Linda, who was trying to hide her agitation, helped him to the couch.

"I'm sorry." Hyde said quietly spitting out remnants of vomit and wiping his chin on his sleeve.

"It's okay, honey." Linda consoled from door of the intake room. It was barren save for a couch and a window. "You're not the first. What're you coming off of?" her accent held a thick southern drawl.

"Fuckin'… everything, man."

"Okay, sweetie. The nurse will be right with you. I'll go get a trashcan, hun. Just wait here."

Hyde nodded feeling another wash of sickness. This had to be the worst he had ever felt in his life. It sure as hell beat falling of the water tower. At least, then he had drugs.

Linda walked back in wearing a clean, blue scrub shirt and holding a a small trashcan. "Here you go, hun. Now just sit tight. Sometimes this process can seem like it never ends, but you're gonna feel better soon. Now, just be sure to tell Maria everything. That way we can get you the help you need."

He responded by dry heaving into the trashcan.

"Right…" She said softly leaning out the door. "Oh good! There she is. "

Hyde looked up from the soddy stench of his stomach acid to see an older woman with short, gray hair and tiny spectacles.

"Hello Steven. I'm nurse Maria," Her voice was steady and calm. "I'll just be asking you a few questions so we can get you the right detox meds. Obviously you're having detox symptoms, correct?"

"Correct." He deadpanned.

"Birthday?"

"September 22, 1958."

"Address?"

"I'm homeless."

She paused for a moment, "And why are you here?"

"It was just time I guess…"

"So you weren't court ordered?"

This time he paused, "No."

She nodded and continued to scribble on the clipboard in her lap. "Now we're going to go through your drug history; Drug of choice?"

"Well," Hyde scoffed, "Everything. Liquor. Cocaine. Pills. Fucking cigarettes, coffee! This is rehab, man. Why are you asking me these questions? Just put me in a damn bed and keep me from goin' outside!" His blood began to boil. The anger was making him feel lightheaded, and he sank back onto the couch. His eyes closed as he suppressed another episode of vomiting. This place was thoroughly pissing him off.

"Steven. We need to find out where the area of focus should lie. That's how we are able to maximize your treatment. The road to recovery begins with honesty. Now what did you use the most? If I laid out all of the drugs in front of you which would you pick up first?"

"Jesus Christ." He mumbled and rubbed his eyes. In all honesty he would grab everything in one swipe and bolt out the door. They could kiss his ass good bye at that point, but he figured that wouldn't satisfy whatever this lady wanted from him. And the quicker she shut up the quicker he could lay down. "Let's see. Liquor I guess. A lot. Whiskey. Vodka. Gin. Scotch. "

"How often did you use? Daily?"

"Yeah."

"How much per day?"

"What?"

"How much did you drink every day?"

"I don't know. I was _drunk_!" He sighed and ran a hand through his moss. What would happen is he just walked out that door right now? They couldn't stop him could they? He came on his own so surely he could- No… No. Damn it. "At least two quarts a day- sometimes more, sometimes less. Just depends what else is around."

"Have you ever blacked out before?"

"… Yes."

"Did you drink to black out?"

"… Yes."

Maria pursed her lips and glanced at him from behind her tiny glasses, "Now we're going to go through a list of drugs. Just say yes or no. Daily or often."

Hyde grunted.

"Marijuana?"

Rolling his eyes, he replied. "Yes. Daily."

"Cocaine?"

"Yes."

A beat passed, "How often?"

"Whenever I could get my hands on it." He seethed, "Often."

"Opiates? Such as heroin, morphine, opium?"

"Daily. Morphine, and yes."

"LSD? Acid, mircodots, sugar cubes?"

"Weekly I guess. Often."

"Methamphetamine?"

"Tried it once."

"Crack-cocaine?"

"Never tried it."

"Benzodiazepines? Xanax? Valium?"

Guilt surfaced as he thought of staying at the Forman's. Kitty's night stand drawer. "Daily."

"Okay. That was easy, huh? Now, last set of questions. What are your withdrawal symptoms?"

'This bitch.' Hyde thought bitterly. Was it not obvious? "Vomiting, my head hurts, my muscles are cramping, I'm shaking, and not to mention I wanna throw each and every one of you off the top of this building."

The nurse appeared cross, but Hyde could have really cared less considering this was her job. She should be used to this. And quicker.

"Follow me, sir. We'll get your vitals and your family history. After that you'll get your detox meds and we'll put you in the detox wing for a few days depending on your condition."

"Detox meds?" Hyde questioned following her down a hallway.

"Medicine to combat your withdrawals- since you're a drinker and you use opiates and benzos daily you're at risk for a seizure. You're lucky you got here when you did. If you didn't use again you might have died."

"I guess." As they rounded a corner, they came to a large room with several doors lining the wall. He guessed the women walking in and out of rooms were nurses or staff members.

"I'm sorry it's so dark in here." Maria noted primly, "We need to keep things quiet and calm when the patients are trying to sleep. Insomnia is very common in early recovery."

"Great." As Hyde sat down Maria wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm. For the first time he noticed the sleeve of his shirt; torn. Tiny spatters of old blood. How long had it been since he'd showered? His stomach lurched forward.

"Now, I know you didn't bring anything with you so we're providing a care package, which will just be some soap, deodorant, shampoo, a razor… the usual."

Hyde noticed his relection in the window behind the nurse. His hair was shoulder length and dreaded. His eyes appeared sunken in. His matted beard just added to the illusion of someone else staring back at him.

It seemed as though Maria noticed the blood spatter when he did. Their eyes met for a moment as she began to squeeze the bulb on the blood pressure cuff.

"Don't worry, sweetie" She whispered offering a sympathetic smile, "No one is going to judge you here. Almost everyone has been where you are before. You're going to meet some amazing folks."

Hyde nodded slightly and switched his gaze downward. He didn't want to look at his reflection. He didn't want to look at this nurse who pretended to give a damn. He just wanted to lay down. The emptiness was setting in. It swelled up through his feet and into his chest. He needed to get the medicine before it took over, or he would never sleep.

"Ninety-seven over sixty-two. That's low but normal since you're coming off of so much. Let's try it again just to make sure."

Hyde rolled his eyes. No. No way was he going to sit through this shit again, "Alright. That's it." He stood and removed the cuff from his elbow, "I've had enough of this. See you at the bar, Maria."

"Wait. Steven." There was that damn calming voice again. The one that made him, for some reason, stop in his tracks and turn around. Maria's doe brown eyes bore into his own. "By coming here,, you're doing the right thing. Now I don't know a thing about your past. But I know what this disease does to people. And I know you're breathing. And that makes you better than your disease, son. Please stay. It'll get better. I can tell you from experience."

'_Son.'_

'_Stay.'_

He glanced up to the ceiling to count the dashes again, suppress the sickness. _Two. Three. Four. _

"I know this part seems like it takes forever. But it's worth it. I promise. You're worth it."

"I'm beginning to doubt it." Hyde murmured.

_Five. Six. Seven. Eight._


	3. Chapter II

__(A/N): Wow. This took a long time to upload you guys. I'm sorry. I've been busy with school and limited access to the internet. I hope I didn't loose any readers. Thank you to those who are still sticking around and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks to cravingsmiles for her help! Enjoy guys! Next chapter will be up much faster, I promise.

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><p><span>1969<span>

_Steven was torn from his sleep by the sound of a slamming door._

"_Fuck off, Bud! That was the last of it, and you told me you weren't gonna do any more! You fucking liar!"_

"_This is the last time! I can't be sick all fucking day, Edna. How else am I supposed to work?" Bud's voice boomed through out the house._

"_Work? Are you kidding me? You haven't been to work in weeks, you son of a bitch! I had to go beg my mom for money so I could pay the light bill 'cause you spent all the money on your precious fucking cocaine! This is bullshit, Bud! I'm not doing this again!"_

_Shutting his eyes, Steven rolled over to bury his face in the corner of the couch. Today was Sunday. He was just grateful he could return to school tomorrow and have another five consecutive days of not listening to their arguing every morning. Summer break had been almost unbearable. The walls in their tiny house were thin and did little to muffle voices in any room. Being in the kitchen was no different than being in the bathroom down the hall. No matter where he was, when anyone spoke it sounded as if they were right next to him._

_He jumped a bit as Edna came bursting through the room, eyes blood shot and smudge marks on her cheeks, "Fuck your Dad! Fuck him! All he does is do his blow and sit on his ass, while I work my ass off."_

_Young Steven rubbed his eyes and sat up, making room for his mother. Planted beside him, she cupped her face in her hands and sobbed. "I fucking hate him, Stevie. We have to leave. We can't do this anymore."_

_Steven shifted uncomfortably. "It's okay, Mom." He could never understand why she got so mad at him when she did the same thing most of the time. He had always known there was something not right about her, but she was nicer to him than Bud so his small hand wrapped around hers, anyway._

"_No, baby. It's not okay. It's not okay." She sniffled and turned to look him in the eyes. Her pupils were dilated and Steven had to try hard not to grimace at her. That would only make her mood worse. Anytime her eyes looked all huge and black he knew things weren't right, though he wouldn't dare ask why anymore._

"_Why does he do this, baby? I don't understand." Edna whispered running a slender hand through his hair._

_Shrugging his shoulders he diverted from her gaze and kept his expression blank. He never knew what to say to her. _

_Suddenly, the bedroom door flew open causing Edna to shoot up off of the couch. Bud tumbled into the room, face beet-red. "Edna! What the fuck are you still doing here? You want me to be sick, bitch?"_

"_Honestly, I could really give a fuck, Bud!"_

_Steven let his face fall into his lap and curled up at the tone in his mother's voice. Things were about to get crazy, and he wished he wasn't there. He could feel the tension mounting in the air. When they screamed like this, he thought they sounded like they were monsters or possessed by demons. It was never good, and always ended the same way._

_Edna ripped away from her son and charged toward Bud, who didn't appear to be backing down. Steven buried his face in his lap and laced his fingers over the back of his head. _

"_Me and Steven are leaving you, Bud! You'll never fucking see him again and it's all your fault! Come on, Steven!" _

_Nose to nose with her husband, Bud responded by grabbing her by her hair and throwing her down on the couch. Steven's heart jumped into his throat as his mother screamed. It was blood curdling, and he just wanted to go. Edna wasn't really going to leave. She said she would all the time. Steven just figured it was a way to provoke Bud so he would hurt her. Sometimes he even wondered if she liked it, and quickly pushed the thought out of his head. Some things were just too much to think about. _

"_Bitch, you are not taking my kid away from me! You ain't leavin' me either! Now get your ass to Jared's house and get me what I need. Whatever you have to do for it, I don't give a shit. Use that spent pussy of yours if you have to!" The look in his eyes was feral as he spit into her face._

_Dead still on the couch, Steven prayed into his lap for them to just not notice him. He wasn't sure if there was a God, but some of the kids at school told him God does stuff for people who pray. At this point, he would take any help he could get. The way his dad appeared like this was terrifying. His black hair seemed to be wet with grease. His skin was shiny, and his eyes were huge and red contrasting against the cold, pale blue. A shiver ran through his spine._

"_Fuck you, Bud!"_

_SMACK_

"_You wanna say that again, Edna? Dear?" Bud taunted as Edna whimpered. "Do ya?"_

_She sobbed out something illegible as he back handed her again, "I said, do you want to say that again?"_

"_No!"_

"_Alright. Now go to Jared's. And if your not back in thirty minutes I'll lock you outta this fuckin' house and you'll never see us again."_

_She nodded frantically, and Bud raised off of the couch allowing her to scramble out the door, keys in hand._

_Wide blue eyes were fixed on Bud until he snorted and spit on the floor, shooting a glare back at Steven's gaze. "What the fuck are you looking at, boy? Pick up this god damn room. There's shit everywhere. Clean it before your momma gets back."_

_Steven dutifully nodded, not meeting his stare, "Yes sir."_

_Once he heard the bed room door shut, Steven let out a sigh and took in the room. Beer cans and glass bottles littered the floor. Even though it was early in the morning mid-August made the already cramped house feel like a sauna, and the stench of sour beer was rampant through-out the rooms. Steven pulled his shirt off and threw it in the corner before trudging through a sea of beer cans to grab a plastic bag from next to the front door. The plastic seemed to be in a pile of black, putrid gunk. He had no desire to try to find out what it was._

_It was crazy. He never understood why, but he often felt sick being at home. It was strange, the way he would do anything just so his Dad wouldn't have a reason to yell at him. Too look at him. His eyes scared him. He even dreamed about them sometimes. He would be in a room, dark and cold: the sense of fear would suffocate him and then Bud's powerful gaze would be fixed on him. It amazed him how his mom stood up to him sometimes. But, she would always back down. Whether by force or will, Bud always won. Most of the time Steven was good at staying out of his way. He mostly played outside in the street with other kids, or alone in his back yard, building fires and making things out of mud. He knew not to ever go inside unless his Dad told him too. _

_The one time he heard his Mom's shrieks and a loud bang he ran inside only to find his Mom cowering behind a turned over couch and Bud with a bottle in one hand and a gun in the other. Bud screamed at him to 'get the fuck outside, boy'. He made the mistake of running Edna's side and Bud shot off the gun. Luckily, neither of them were hit. _

_He shook off the memory and began to fill the plastic bags with beer cans. He couldn't understand why his mom wouldn't just leave. It made him angry sometimes. Steven saw the way Mrs. Forman treated Eric and his jealousy gutted him clean every time. As he grew up and was allowed to go over to other kids houses he began to notice something was different._

_Whatever it was, it wasn't fair at all._

_As he sifted through mounds of aluminum he came across something that shocked him. His finger tips grazed something hard and cold, and curled around the object. _

_No way. _

_How could this be here? Edna and Bud never left a full beer around. Ever._

_A slight jump in his gut sent him flying into his room. He had to pause and breathe to calm himself down. No way. No way. Why was he so excited, though? It was just a beer. His parents drank the stuff all the time and they always just acted crazy. It couldn't be that special._

_But then there was the part of him that knew their entire lives were centered around it: a part of him that knew they cared about this can more than him. That part of him wanted to know why._

_Why did they care so much about this drink? He always smelled it on them. He thought it smelled a lot like baby pee and couldn't understand what they found so appealing about it. There usually wasn't even food in the kitchen. Yet, there was always this stuff._

_He ran his hands over the still-cool metal. It sloshed in his grip as he turned the can over to read the label. It was just some big red letters. Even the labeling wasn't cool. How could this be something they cared about so much?_

_He ran a hand through his curly mop and spun around to throw the lock on the door._

_Oh, he knew this was bad. He knew that if his parents ever found out it would be __**bad**__. They had never told him specifically that he would be in trouble, he just had that gut feeling that was usually right. But how would they find out? Bud was in his bedroom trying to lay down. When he did that Steven knew not to bother him and that he wouldn't be coming out anytime soon. Edna was gone to go get more of whatever that stuff was and even when she got back she would head straight to the bedroom and they would leave him alone in the living room for hours like always so what was the big deal? They didn't even care, when it came right down to it. Sometimes he even wondered if they'd be better off with out him._

_That solidified it for him. They wouldn't care- didn't care about him, and they wouldn't find out anyway._

_Steven made his way over to his mattress and lightly scanned the beer again. _

"_Here goes." He mumbled popping open the lid. He brought it to his nostril and inhaled. The stench was horrifying. He felt like he might as well be drinking toilet water._

_Then again, he thought, Edna and Bud really like it._

_At this point the wasn't sure why he going to drink it. His reasoning darted back and forth from the thought of just getting back at his parents for caring more about this drink than him, to wanting to know why it was so worthy of their love in the first place._

_Before he knew it he was downing the liquid. It stung down his throat and he felt the urge to vomit come over him. Setting the can aside he buried his face in his hand and held down a wave of retching._

_A beat passed and he pulled the can to his lips again and choked back another swallow of the putrid liquid._

_It was funny because the longer he sipped on the drink the less disgusting it became._

_Before he knew it he was laying on his mattress staring at the ceiling. The sound of a car door slamming seemed more distant than usual. He smiled as his thoughts seem far away from him. He couldn't really understand what was happening, but when the sound of Edna screaming at Bud seemed a little quieter than usual, and the bass in Bud's voice seemed a little less scary he slowly drifted into a deep sleep. A small smile on his face._

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><p>Hyde's eyes slowly opened. White, everything around him was white. That was the first thing that registered. It was strange, it seemed as if he had just fallen asleep. Suddenly the dim soft light of the morning was peeking through his window.<p>

He blinked and rubbed his eyes. Where the fuck was he again? Oh yeah.

Rehab.

Hyde grumbled and rolled over remembering the night before. So much for serenity, he thought bitterly. Immediately he felt the urge to reach over to the nightstand and find his pills and his whiskey. It had been his morning routine for years now, and honestly he had no idea what to do without it. Another groan escaped his lips.

There was a knock at the door and a young nurse walked in, "Steven Hyde?"

He grunted and luckily for him ( or her ) she took that as a yes. "I've brought you your meds and someone will come in soon to bring you your breakfast. Are you feeling hungry?"

"Fuck." He coughed out, "I just want a cigarette."

"Honey, you can smoke later. For now you just need your rest. You're only on day one. We have to observe you at all times."

He had no reply, instead just downed his meds and burrowed back into the white sheets. The nurse seemed a bit taken back at his aggression. He heard her pause before finally exiting the room. Not having much to say was wise he assumed. If he said more than a few words at a time right now it might be catastrophic and he might have to leave…

Wait…

Shit, no. Hyde mentally kicked himself. He had to stay here. Jail was not better than this. Besides, he came this far, already checked in. Already had to pay the money so he might as well ride it out. Plus, the last conversation he had with the last of his friends quickly conveyed to him he was on his own unless he dropped everything.

Though really he couldn't blame them.

He couldn't blame her either. Donna. He had stayed with her for a few nights, told her he was going to kick the habit and he just needed a place to do it. With no where else to go and nothing but a small bag of clothes and a sleeping bag, his oldest friend couldn't turn him down. He gratefully accepted her kindness and wound up dope sick in her bathroom while she was working.

Needless to say when she returned home her TV and stereo were missing and Hyde was no where to be found.

That malignant guilt seemed to creep up on him again. This was such a strange feeling. He felt so numb. There wasn't really any emotion involved. Just a physical sensation. A dull throb in his chest.

He was so tired.

Last night the nurse had asked him about his family history and what drugs they had done. That was probably the worst thing they could have asked him at the time. He proceeded to go into a rant about the fucked up ways of the establishment and how they didn't really care about their patients. It was just some scheme to get money out of people who were hopeless and they were the people with the real problems. He then tried to pry the clip board out of the nurses hands.

Thankfully for Steven, Maria was pretty head strong and defiantly look him in the eye, and waited for him to calm down before explaining to him for the fourth time that night, she had been where he was.

"It's just sick people teaching sick people, Steven." She noted firmly, "But I'll tell you this. It's better than you feelin' like your dying out there on the side walk, huh?"

For some reason the thought of himself vomiting his brains out onto the side walk and then possibly stealing a stranger's purse or, God forbid, another car shut him up fast.

Yesterday he had more feeling than he did today. He almost liked it. After feeling terrible for so long. And having so much ache in his heart and in his mind feeling nothing was a nice change for once. Though it's no lie he would have preferred a tall bottle of Southern Comfort and a bag of heroin. Last year, on his twenty-seventh birthday he had the bright idea to go out like Janis Joplin.

Needless to say it didn't work.

This was okay for now, though. He probably needed the sleep anyway. Even if he didn't stay as long as they were planning for him, at least now he had a bed. And after two years of squatting, this was something he would be dumb not to take advantage of.

He rolled over, not really caring that the nurse was bringing him food. He wasn't hungry, and he was sure the food was terrible here, anyway. Institution food was always crap.

He pulled the crisp white sheet over his head and the hospital-esque smell brought him back to fake injury visits to the hospital for drugs.

Hyde shuddered at the thought and threw off the covers. If this was already happening, it wasn't good. Hyde assumed that being in rehab would make the cravings not so bad. Or something.

"Fuck."

His eyes fell on the window once again; so still, just _being._

He vaguely wondered how many addicts that window had seen at their most vulnerable moments and shot a glare towards the light before rolling over once again and settling into a restless sleep.


	4. Chapter III

(A/N): It's been a while, but back to the writing board! heh. Thank you to everyone who has stayed with me, Finally got a computer so expect more updates regularly. Writer's block has been annihilated. My spell check isn't showing anything. Any mistakes will be corrected promptly. Thanks guys, lovelovelove.

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><p>"<em>Hyde! Wanna walk home with us today?"<em>

_Hyde slung his book bag over his shoulder and scanned the parking lot. Eric waved him over. Donna stood beside him giving Kelso some incredulous look. The middle of the school year had crept up, and the chill of winter was setting in too quickly. His walk home would be unpleasant to say the least. Lately, Eric had been inviting him over for dinner after their walks home. His mom, Mrs. Forman, always made delicious, warm meals he could never say 'no' to. In his head he weighed out taking a freezing walk home to unfinished cans of beer and half smoked cigarettes, and eating warm food with the Forman's. _

_His mind was already set._

"_Yeah, man." Hyde caught up with the trio as they started their trek through the light snow._

"_So, how's it going Hyde? Did you do well on the English test?" Donna questioned, still smiling._

_Hyde shrugged, "I guess."_

"_Man, I think Mrs. Wilson hates me!" _

"_Why?" Hyde asked Kelso with a sneer._

"_Because, she failed me! I did what she asked! I wrote the story and everything. It was like, five paragraphs!"_

"_Kelso, I don't think writing about space boobs and volcanoes qualifies as school appropriate material."_

"_Space boobs?" Donna questioned with a smirk._

"_Right on, Kelso. Creative writing." Hyde nodded as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket._

_"That's what I said," Kelso replied, exasperated, "She asked for freakin' creative writing. I thought it was pretty freakin' creative!"_

_Ignoring Kelso, Eric caught a whiff of something foul in the air,_ "_Hyde, What is that?" _

_Hyde stopped and looked at Eric. "It's a cigarette, man." _

"_Well, I know that. Why are you smoking it? That stuff will kill you!"_

"_Stop being a baby, Forman." Hyde took a drag and noticed his friends gaping out of the corner of his eye. _

"_Hyde…" Donna began. "What's up with you lately? You've really been worrying us."_

"_Donna, not right now."_

"_No, Eric. He's our friend and we need to talk to him about it."_

"_Hello. I'm right here." Hyde interjected hitting his cigarette again. _

"_Look, man. You've been weirding us out lately. One, You always smell like… my mom after she gets off of work. And you've missed school. And you've just been looking like crap."_

"_Thanks, Forman." Hyde said sarcastically placing his glasses on the bridge of his nose. _

"_Come on. He's right, Hyde." Donna placed a hand on his shoulder, "We're worried about you. You're our friend."_

_Hyde just smiled at her, "Well, thanks for the concern, guys. But I'm fine. Everything's cool, man. Just relax."_

"_You promise?" Donna spoke softly._

"_Yeah, kid. I'm good."_

"Excuse me, Steven?"

Hyde rolled over and squinted as the morning light connected with his bloodshot eyes. Dull pain throbbed near the front of his skull. The form of a cute girl with warm honey skin appeared in the door way.

"Steven. I've got your meds for you. You should be feeling a bit more awake today. You're through detox watch, the morning you'll be joining the rest of the patients. So, gather your things and I'll be waiting for you in the hall when you're ready."

Hyde nodded as she left the room. He tried to remember how long it had been. Maybe three days? Three days of laying in bed and sleeping with the occasional few bites of food the nurses brought him. He was beginning to feel the effects of his lifestyle the longer he was here. His body felt perpetually useless; his legs like jelly, and his mind just as exhausted as the rest of him. Being shut in the detox room and left to sleep for three days was just the vacation he needed. A part of him just wanted the relief of not being able to find drugs or liquor. When all you can think about is the next fix, all else comes last. Including bodily functions and basic means for living. Now that his appetite was sated and he had adequate rest the treatment thing was beginning to sound like a joke that exit door around the corner was looking pretty sweet.

_Actually…_

Hyde crept out of the room peering down the hall to check for his nurse. To his left was the dead-end of the hall with a gray door. Above the door was the most beautiful word he had ever seen in his life, 'EXIT'.

"Steven! I wouldn't do that if I were you. It's against medical advice and the second you walk through that door you can kiss your insurance payments good-bye."

_Fuck_, he thought she had left already.

Hyde paused, "I was just trying to smoke a cigarette."

"Uh huh," The nurse scoffed, "Okay."

_Bitch…_

"If you wanna smoke, smoking area is outside, and through the meeting room. Men and women are separated. We find that two addicts hooking up in rehab when their at their most venerable doesn't do too much for the recovery process. Follow me, I'll take you down there right now." She motioned for him to follow her.

On one hand he could just leave. It's not like they could make him stay. On the other hand, that gorgeous nurse was right. Hyde would owe the government lots of money, considering the insurance was through them. And that's just a whole 'nother bunch of government issues he could do with out. Plus if he walked behind her he got to watch her hips swing from side to side.

_Oh, what the hell…_

"And what is this recovery process I keep hearing about? Are you talking about the drugs you replace street drugs with? Or the crack pot other addicts that talk to us? Or the congregation of a bunch of drug users and dealers in one area, conveniently able to talk to each other and make new 'friends'?"

The nurse cocked an elegant eyebrow and smirked, "Oh baby, you got a lot to learn. It's okay though. You'll get it. Men's area is this way. Cafeteria's to your left. You'll eat three times a day, once in the morning at 8, then again at 12 and again at 7. You get you're meds at 5, 11, 6, and 9. Don't miss those, baby, cause that's all you get."

Hyde gave her and incredulous stare, "So more drugs?"

"That's right. More drugs. More drugs cause when we put a bunch of chemicals in our body, it changes the way our brains work. We begin to feel depressed, hopeless, angry… which leads to more using, and then it just cycles all over again. We give you drugs to get through your detox without dying, and psychiatric medication to fix those mental issue our drug _histories_ have caused."

Hyde shrugged, "Makes sense I guess." _Unless they're just giving us more drugs to be chemically dependent on so they can get insurance money. Those are the real fuckin' criminals._

"Here's the men's area. They're in group right now, so don't worry about introductions, you'll just step right in and have a seat."

The space was large, down a hallway to the left was five doors on each side, three pay phones, and an exit door. In front of him was a large white room with tile floors. To the front there was a man with no arm sitting and speaking in front of a chalk board to a room full of some younger and some older men. There was an open chair next to some kid that looked to be in his mid twenties. His blue hair was shaved off on the sides, looked like some gutter punk. _That'll do, pig. That'll do. _

_What the hell, I'm starting to sound crazy. I need a fucking drink. _

But there were no drinks. No pills (besides the kind he didn't want), no weed, no coke, no fuckin nothin'. Except for a bunch of fucks in a white room, and some guy without an arm.

As he stepped into the room, no one even looked in his direction, they all seemed thoroughly fixated on whatever the man was saying. Hyde took his seat beside the kid with blue hair and tried to settle in. He shoved his hand in his coat pocket, feeling nothing. Nothing but cloth, and he cursed the movement in his head. The worst part about all this shit, was that he was stuck now. And he put himself here. He put _himself here._

The image of his friends washed through his memory like watercolor. It was easy to slip into memories in the white of the room around him, with the monotone voice the man with one arm spoke with. It was mostly splotches of Jackie. Her smile, so bight. Dark hair around darker eyes. She was the beginning of all this.

He shifted in his seat. That was it. If he had to be here, she was the reason. He knew the reality of getting her back was hopeless. He fucked her over and took down the rest of his friends with them. One by one, they all found out what he did to her. And drugs are no excuse. Not to someone who can never understand.

Even Donna. She tried, tried to lie for him, tried to fix him, tried to put him up, tried to understand. That was the part that killed him. The last one to really try to give a shit. Done and done, and he knew what he was doing. Thinking about it made him feel cold. The look on her face was something he would never forget, _"You told me Hyde!" He remembered bitterly, "You told me it would never happen again!"_

He couldn't describe it, damned if he did and damned if he didn't. Ever since he was a kid he lived in chaos, thrived in chaos, it was only natural that he would carry it with him, share it with everyone; the people he loved the most.

"But the program worked for me. It took a lot of relapsing. A lot of hark work, a lot of step work, and I'm not saying when you guys get out of here you're going to be cured. It doesn't work like that. This a disease, just like diabetes or AIDS. We're going to have it for the rest of our lives. While you're in here, your addiction is out there doing push up's in the parking lot, so always watch you're back and don't pick up that first drug."

Hyde slowly tuned in to what the man was saying and caught his reflection in the window. No way was this guy saying anything that had to do with him. Fuck yeah he was going to pick up when he got out. These people were the crazy ones. He just needed a break so he could get it under control. Just enough so he could gain his friends trust back. That's all that mattered.

"Alright, anyone got anything to add to that?" The man with one arm stood up and stretched as if he sat there forever.

Hyde raised his arm, "When can we smoke?"

The man smirked, "You must be new, huh? Yeah, looks like it's close to that time. I kinda need one too. Let's go."

The kid with the blue hair spoke up next to him as everyone started to make towards the door, "Yo man, Evan." He said holding out his hand.

"Hyde." He shook his hand and the kid asked him for a cigarette. "I don't have any, man. Came here with nothing."

Evan gave a weird sideways grin. He was missing a tooth and had a gnarly scar running from his chin to his temple. The rest of his teeth were crooked, and his eyes were the same electric blue as his hair. His accent was pretty thick. New York, Hyde figured, a lot different from all the down home southern nurses. "Me too. Alotta cats here came with nothin' but a black eye and the clothes on their back. It's not so bad as some other places though. The crowds alright right now." As they reached the smoking porch, Evan tapped on an older man's shoulder, "Rocko, got a smoke for me and the new kid?"

Rocko looked Evan up and down, "You ever gonna get your own smokes, kid?" His gaze switched over to Hyde, "Watch out around this one, he's got some sticky fingers and deep pockets."

Evan laughed and punched him on the arm, "Man, don't tell him that."

Rocko laughed, a thick smokey laugh. He kind of reminded Hyde of an old gray Johnny Cash with long hair, "I'm just messin' with ya. This ones alright." He tossed a cigarette to both of them, "You got me on phone time, I reckon?"

Evan nodded, "Yeah, yeah. No problem. Thanks for the smoke."

"Yeah, thanks." Hyde nodded, running a hand through his severely matted hair.

"You been out for a while, huh? Got some wild hair, man. Them are some real dreads." Evan laughed hard. It was odd for Hyde to take in so much at once, the other men around them were all laughing loudly, really it was more like barking. The atmosphere was painfully different from his spot on 16th street; all cold and wet and quiet euphoria.

"Where ya from?" Evan pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Wisconsin, you?"

"The sewers, the gatherings, the dumpsters."

"New York?" Hyde dead panned.

"Yo, how'd you know?"

Hyde might had laughed if he had the energy, "Man, have you heard yourself?"

Evan nodded, took another drag, and laughed listlessly, "We're addicts, brother. We don't listen to any damn body. What makes you think we're gonna listen to ourselves?"

Hyde didn't respond and his thoughts went to Jackie again. She had been relentlessly forming from the recesses of his mind since he woke up this morning, and it was driving him bat shit crazy. Evan noticed the look in his eye and spoke up again. He didn't seem like the type to really give two fucks whether or not anyone wanted to hear it.

"What are you comin' off of?"

"Reality."

"Hmmn." Evan nodded and took one last thick drag off of his cigarette, "Ain't that the truth, man? Most truth I heard all day. Take it easy, I'm gonna go back to bed. You should too. They'll run you ragged here, sleep while you can."

Hyde nodded and continued to stare out into the depth of trees beyond the porch. Even as the clamor of voices around him died, he never thought to go inside, didn't even want to.

All he could feel was this heavy rock on his gut, some oppressive force; guilt.

Dark hair around darker eyes, shrouded in regret and it was the most pain he had felt since he left Wisconsin.


	5. Chapter IIII

A/N: Okay so here's the deal. I've got a Job, a State board test to pass, and a toddler (yes... I still write. Sad state of affairs.) So realistically the updates on this story will be sporadic. But in no way am I abandoning this story. I'm getting super into it and have parts of different chapters written up. Fear not, the plot is simmering. I wanted to give the reader a chance to figure out the nature of addiction before diving right in. I tried to steer away from any pairings, but the story took on a form of its own and that left me with some Jackie and Hyde. It can't be helped. I don't even ship those too really. But Hyde is Hyde and Jackie's got a hold on in no matter how you turn it. I'm satisfied. Also, hang in there with the whole dialect thing. Im trying to have the dialogue be true to each character's culture and background. If it sounds strange, it's meant to. Enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think!

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><p><em>That night he dreamed of his mother, shrouded in a shadow, eyes black as tar. The silence was the worst, it rung in his ears almost deafening as she stared right through him, into him. And then she was crying, her tears were as black as her eyes. When he tried to help her, tell her to calm down, he couldn't move. <em>

_ He woke to the sound of tapping, the black faded and soon he was back in his room, all empty mess and beer cans. He welcomed the sight and moved to the window where he heard the sound that shook him from his nightmare. A wave of something akin to comfort washed over him when he saw his surrogate sister standing behind the window. _

_"Hyde," Donna smiled and tapped on the window again, "It's me! Let me in!"_

_ He reached out a still clammy hand to open the window, "Hey, Big Red." He coughed a bit hoping his dream wasn't still written across his face, if there was anything he hated more than authority, it was vulnerability. "What are you doin' here, man? It's like negative degrees outside. And why the window? You know Edna's not here now, right?"_

_"I'm not leaving you alone tonight, Hyde. C'mon now. And I'd rather not sift through that dumpster you call a living room." Hyde raised his eyebrows and smirked and finally helped her inside. "I'm fine Donna you didn't need to come."_

_Once through the window, her stare caught his and shook him to the core. Her finger tips, freezing and gentle grazed the area on his temple where an ugly bruise had formed. "I know it's bad Hyde you don't have to hide it from me anymore."_

_"Well she's gone now so I won't be hiding much of anything anymore, right?" He said impassively._

_"I still can't believe she just left you here. You need to tell Eric. The Foreman's love you Hyde. We all love you. You can't live like this."_

_"I thought you said we didn't have to talk about it." He suggested making his way towards his nightstand, "What's in the back pack, kid?"_

_"Okay, I'm sorry. I'm not here to badger you. I just brought some cards and a couple of pops. There's no school tomorrow, so I figured Spades until dawn like we used to?" Her smile was a welcome sight, he thought._

_"Hell yeah. Sounds good to me." He grabbed his pack of smokes off the nightstand, "Where do Bob and Midge think you are?"_

_"Jackie's of course... You know I think she might like you or something. I was over at her house earlier and..."_

_"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, man. I'd rather not hear about the Midget's raging stoner-kid phase."_

_Donna pursed her lips and nodded, clearly amused. "Right."_

_Recently Donna had been mentioning Jackie like it was a thing that was even possible. Most of the time he'd trust this girl with his life, but somethings she said made him wonder about her mental health. He lit up a Marlboro and immediately felt his nerves mellow out. Images of his dream still flashed to the forefront of his brain, the way it still disturbed him made him want to forget. _

_"Hyde! Still with the cigarettes?" She asked handing him a bottle of Coca-Cola. He popped it open cigarette still in his mouth. "Why, Big D? You want one?"_

_"No." She spat making a face that made Hyde laugh. While Donna pulled chips and cards out of her bag, Hyde made his way to his bedroom door and jammed a knife in the seal around the door way, preventing it from opening. Even though he no longer had his parents to worry about, he still didn't live in the best part of town._

_"So, you said you had found something?" Donna asked nonchalantly as she sat down next to his bed. _

_"Huh?" Hyde asked taking a seat across from her. _

_"At school today, you said you found something in Edna's room. What was it?"_

_"Oh yeah, " He picked up the cards and began to shuffle them, "It was tiny different bags of this black clumpy goo. Probably fourteen or so of 'em. and then she had this tiny box with a big wad of the goo and this... weird, like... Bulb shaped glass pipe. I can't really explain it. I'd just have to show it to you. I never seen her use it before... And I can't really imagine why she would just dip set out of town and not take her stash. Something bad must have happened."_

_Donna stayed silent before finally catching his eyes again. His expression unnerved her. While if she had been in his shoes, talking about this situation would have prompted, if not tears, at least sadness. Anger maybe. But from Hyde there was nothing. It worried a deep part of her she often chose to ignore._

_One question remained, it came out like clockwork, and Hyde knew it was coming, "Did you try it?"_

_When a twinge of guilt flashed across his face, Donna felt relieved. At least it was something, which as the years went by was becoming harder and harder top get out of him. _

_When silence remained and the words hung in the air thicker than smoke she asked again._

_Damn. Hyde thought. That was the mistake he made. Telling Donna about the weed when he was 8, the beer when he was 11, the coke when he was 15. She had always been the only person he really trusted to talk to throughout the years. Eric and Hyde had been close, but he was sheltered. Donna had always been more down to Earth, he just vibed with her on a level he never could with Kelso or Forman or even Fez. But the older she got the more she saw of him, the more she worrried about him and he was beginning to regret ever telling her anything in the first place. _

_"No, I was going to. But I didn't even know what to do with it. It's not a pipe for smoking weed. It looks like a globe with a tube attached to it. I got it here if you wanna check it out."_

_"No, Hyde! Why do you have to do these things? Just because your parents do it? I don't get you sometimes. You're smart, you've got a whole life ahead of you. With them gone you have a chance to get out of this hell hole. You've got people who love you. All that junk ever did to them was turn them into monsters."_

_"Look kid. You're not my mom. I'm not a fucking baby. You can't tell me what's good for me. I don't have a future, just look around you. I'm not like you. And I'm okay with that. Honestly you and Forman right here, right now is the only future I'm ever gonna have, and then you guys are gonna go off to College and have babies and lives and I'll be right here."_

_"What the hell, Hyde?" She shot back with a fervor, now in his face. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say!I know you're stronger than that! I know you don't wanna be like them! I've heard you say it over and over again. You are not Bud! And you're not! You're not even close and you never will be."_

_Hyde's stare was yet again impassive as his cigarette hung out of his lips. Unfortunately for his pride, she was right. He knew it. But the truth was it was so much easier just not to try. The weed felt good when life didn't. The beer felt good when life didn't. The coke felt good when life didn't. Whose to say this other stuff wouldn't feel good when life surely did not feel good right now. It was just damn hard and she didn't understand that. But she was right about one thing. He wasn't Bud. _

_He placed his hands gently on her shoulders to sit her back down, He felt her relax as she took her seat across from him again and he spoke, "Okay, Donna. You know I love you. I won't do it again if it means that much to you. Sit down and play some Spades with me and just chill. And the Pops were nice but I got something nicer."  
><em>

_He pulled out a bottle of whiskey from underneath his bed, unscrewed the lid, and took a gulp followed by some cola. "Here, take a shot."  
><em>

_She gave him a queer eye and reluctantly took the drink, "Okay. Only one. Only cause it's not a school night, because that's what **normal** people do. **Hyde**." He didn't miss her glare, "Oh, and only if you promise me on all that is sacred and holy you will not try that black stuff."  
><em>

_"Donna Pinciotti, Beautiful red-head, ball and chain to my best friend, little sis among all sisses, I swear I will never try that black shit."  
><em>

_She nodded triumphantly and took a sip of the liquor chased by her cola. She was repulsed by the taste but smirked at Hyde anyway. They spent the rest of the night playing cards under the glow of Hyde's cigarettes. His mother's tar black eyes willed far away from these moments with his friend._

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><p>Hyde had broken many promises. To many people. He dreamed of them here. On East 16th st. he never dreamed of anything. He slept some, but stayed nodded out most of the time, this eerie place submerged beneath the line of reality. When he came here he broke through that line every night, gasped for air until all the drugs filtered through his system and he was left with nothing but a tidal wave emotion and guilt that just left him numb. They gave him phenobarbital to suppress his withdrawal symptoms. That much he was grateful for. On the street when he ran out of drugs, his bodies dependency would grab a hold of him and drive him into madness. Chills, sweats, vomiting, pain and so much pain, until he could get his next fix his body would break down. Here they gave him medicine to stop the sickness, but it didn't stop the dreams. It didn't stop the guilt. He gazed into the wooded area next to the smoking porch, and a voice disturbed him.<p>

"Hey, kid. Coffee and a smoke?" It was Rocko. Chilly frost bellowed out and clung to the thick whiskers on his lips. Steven nodded gratefully and took what was offered. The warmth of the cup made him remember just how cold it was outside. Four am in January in Alabama- nothing like Wisconsin but freezing none the less. He wasn't expecting to have company out here, but where his mind had been all night he wasn't sure it bothered him all that much.

"How ya feelin'?" Rocko asked gruffly.

"Alright." _Never the truth, Steven... _He heard Jackie say, all dark eyes and pity.

"You know we're gonna be having breakfast soon. These Alabama women, they know how to cook."

Hyde just nodded, still lost to the sensation of emotion and numbness, willing the memories away was all the had the strength to do at this point. Things he hadn't thought of in years were beginning to resurface. Including his sliver of a life he had with Jackie... That was the worst. Knowing what he could've had.

After a few moments of cold silence, Rocko spoke again, warming up the atmosphere immediately, "It'll get better, kid. I promise ya."

Hyde could only nod in response. He wasn't surprised that Rocko offered him a chance to talk. It was written across his face that he felt like shit. Something was different about this place. He built his mask with drugs and booze and sunglasses, all of that was gone now. He felt naked and empty and didn't even care that he felt that way.

He recognized this feeling. He hadn't felt it since he was 14, but Donna called it 'depression'. He called her 'weird'.

They always told him it would get better here. Like that's the holy mantra of Generations Rehab Facility. "It get's better." The notion made him want to laugh. What is better to these people? Better would have been being someone else. Better would have been not stealing everything from the last of the people who cared about him. Better would have been not stealing that car with Krystal, and all the blood. Better would have been holding his daughter one more time, instead of this desperately black clouded cup of coffee. He wasn't expecting this. Not today. It had started in the night, he could still see them from his restless dreams; his mother, dead and black eyes, Jackie back turned to him, he remembered screaming at her to notice him, screaming at her soundless apologies, but she never looked at him just a curtain of hair, but then she sifted into their beautiful daughter and it was too much to bear. That's when he decided not to sleep.

He hadn't had a dream since he was 21.

Time passed and more men flooded the smoking porch, soon a cloud of smoke hung thick over the men and he felt the need to crawl out of his skin. Some were laughing loudly, the oldest men were silent and watching, and then Evan's voice pulled him back into reality.

"Yo roomie, how ya feelin'?" The blue haired kid asked with a swat to the shoulder. They had placed Hyde in his room for now.

"Is that all you people ever ask?" Hyde drawled.

"Whoa, man. Chill. We're here for the same reason brother, no need to get aggro. These people actually give two fucks, maybe more." Evan looked to the woods and smirked, mouth full of crooked teeth, "It's nice out here, ya know? I love the city, New York, Atlanta, St. Louis. All kick ass places, but nothin' beats the fresh air and the birds in the trees."

When Evan said that Hyde began to step away from himself for a moment, and take in the scenery. Evan was right, it was nice. The morning sun spilled yellow light over the trees, the sky was pink and the birds were singing their songs.

It was almost precious.

"Yeah, you're how I was when I got here. I know people just keep sayin' 'it gets better' and you wanna tel 'em to take it and shove it up their ass, but a few days pass by and eventually... I don't know. Things become clearer. Them birds in the trees, you actually hear 'em. You see them guys over there laughin'?"

Hyde nodded shifting his sight to Rocko who was making provocative gestures with his hands, and all the men around him were laughing, loud and burly.

"That's the loudest we've all laughed in a long time. Some of us our whole lives. It's this feelin' that comes up through your gut you know. Next thing you know you're alive. Thing about it is... them muthafuckas ain't even high, bro. I know you don't get it yet... But you will. Soon, "He gestured over to Rocko again, shiny metal Gauge in his ear catching the morning light, "Soon that'll be you, man."

They were interrupted by the counselor with one arm opening the heavy exit door, "Alright, guys. Breakfast!"

Evan nodded and swated Hyde on the shoulder as he stood up. "Alright Dreads, let's get some food in you, brother. You look like a bag 'o bones."


End file.
